


Little chronicles of ordinary horrors

by zort



Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Rape, heavy drinking (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-19
Updated: 2010-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-10 04:43:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zort/pseuds/zort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day on tour in Sid's life, watching his bandmates be dysfunctional and blind to his own tragedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little chronicles of ordinary horrors

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a prompt/gift for kat, she wanted abused-Sid and it snow-balled from there.  
> Thanks to [](http://dragons-rage598.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://dragons-rage598.livejournal.com/)**dragons_rage598** for the beta.

  
He found the message in his bunk when he padded back to it after his shower. He didn't need to read it for something to freeze in his guts. He didn't want to read it either. Like all the others it was concise to the point of bluntness and nothing more than factual. Anyone else but him reading it would have no clue what it was about.

Before allowing himself to sigh, he looked around to make sure he was really alone. With a defeated sigh, he climbed up in his bunk and buried his hands under the pillow to hide their shaking. Then he pushed his face into it and finally let out the whimper that was caught in his throat.

He didn't want to go, but he knew what would happen if he didn't show up would be much worse than what was going to happen anyway.

"NO FUCKING WAY! You've gone and lost enough this week already! Just NO!"

He could hear Chris's voice pleading but he couldn't make out the words. He didn't need to, it wasn't the first time. They heard it all an average of once a week. Whether Chris won or lost, him and Craig would always fight about the whole gambling thing.

Sid listened to Craig yelling again. He rolled over in his bunk and tried not to imagine what the whole thing was about. It didn't work. He knew exactly what would happen tonight between them. It would be violent and painful, and they would all have to be careful about walking into random backrooms.

Trying not to let the memory of what they'd been doing that one time when he hadn't been paying attention, he stared at the ceiling. It wasn't all that fascinating and soon his thoughts were back where he didn't want them.

With a grunt, he tried to imagine what he could do. He probably should get dressed, but that wouldn't take him very long. And then, he'd be back to square one.

Chris and Craig were still fighting which ruled them out as a source of distraction.

Corey was noisily doing something in the small studio at the back of the bus. Corey was always noisy: showering, sleeping, fucking… If Corey was silent, Corey was dead. Even Sid had to admit that made him really difficult to share a tour-bus with.

That left Paul in the tour-bus. The problem was that Paul drank, which wasn't loud or traumatising, but it was self-destructive and everyone was under strict recommendations to keep an eye on him. Besides, he wasn't sure whether Paul was up and puking his guts from the previous night, or if he was still half-comatose in his bunk.

He considered popping a few acid tabs, but he knew that wouldn't be well received either. Grumbling, he started sorting through his tee-shirts and shorts so he could get dressed. He was pulling a pair of shorts on, when the door of the bus section slammed shut making him start violently.

Rolling to the side he looked below, over the side of his bunk. Chris looked back at him, there was blood oozing from his lip and a haunted look in his eyes.

"Got your ass handed to you last night?"

Chris nodded and sat down heavily in Craig's bunk.

"Should get that busted lip taken care of…"

Chris nodded again and rummaged through the stuff him and Craig kept in the bunk until he found a fresh change of clothes. Then he took off his shirt. Sid gasped and rolled out of his bunk to get a better look.

"Those look really nasty, man…"

He stopped at the look Chris gave him.

"Don't make me ask you questions, Sid…"

Chris's voice was barely above a whisper and thick with threat. Sid sighed. They all had their little secrets that the others pretended they didn't know about.

Nodding to Chris as the taller guy walked out for his shower, Sid finished dressing. Then he went to the bus's kitchen and grabbed a beer and two slices of cold pizza. With this healthy breakfast, he walked to the TV room and dropped on the sofa next to Craig. He didn't tell him what he'd seen, nor did he comment on the fresh scabs on the sampler's head.

They reached the venue a couple of hours later. Long enough for a nasty knot to have developed in his guts. Feeling like he was going to be sick any minute, he fucked up more than usual during sound check, earning nasty comments from most of his band mates and even more dirty glares. In the end, he stayed back after they were done with the excuse that he needed to check some things again.

He was putting his vinyls back into their sleeves when he felt a presence behind him. He didn't need to look up to know who was standing behind him, nor what he wanted. It was time.

He nodded to the question that wasn't asked and put the last vinyl into its sleeve, then walked offstage. He didn't look behind his back, he could feel the presence behind him. The venue wasn't all that big so it wasn't difficult to find a store room out of the way.

When the door clicked locked behind him, he felt the knot in his gut churn and unwind.

Barely a second later, he was trapped between the wall and a broad, strong body. Lips found his aggressively and he tried to reciprocate because that was what he should do. But when he felt the warmth of an erection push against his belly, he couldn't help his backward motion.

"Don't move!"

The words surprised him more than the back handed cuff across his face. He felt almost indignant, as if he wasn't doing exactly what he was supposed to.

Tasting blood on his lips, he looked up and finally met Shawn's eyes. His expression was undecipherable, and Sid was forced to look down as pain suddenly shot through his crotch where Shawn squeezed hard. He knew what would come next, he was ready.

"Aww, boy… You know you want it. Why do you always try to pretend you don't?"

He didn't say anything, he knew everything would be deliberately misinterpreted, besides it wasn't his cue.

As Shawn's hands crawled up his belly and chest he wondered why Chris didn't admit he had a gambling problem. Vicious pinches to his nipples brought him back to Shawn's voice.

"Look at how into it you are, you're moaning for me…"

Sid didn't bother pointing out this was pain and not pleasure. Instead he wondered why Corey couldn't live without being the centre of attention for more than three minutes. But Shawn forced a pleading whimper from his lips by biting on his shoulder so hard Sid was surprised there was no blood.

"Moan for me, Sid… You sound so sweet…"

He focused on making small sounds before Shawn could decide to get vicious again. Maybe if he was strong like Mick… He wouldn't accept this, he would fight, he would be able to gather things into huge fists and pulverize them into oblivion.

But he wasn't strong and he couldn't stop Shawn pushing his shorts down. He closed his eyes. He wanted to disappear, he wanted Jim to tell him how he did it, how he could get so absorbed into himself that the rest of the world disappeared.

Once again, Shawn's grip on his flesh brought him back with a whimper of pain.

"Come on, Sid… Tell me, tell me how you want it… Beg for it! Beg and I'll make it good…"

Sid wished he could be like Joey, able to fuck anyone anytime. He wished he couldn't get enough sex, wouldn't feel dirty when he did those things, didn't blush when he heard them mentioned. But he wasn't like Joey and he had to fight to keep disgust out of his voice.

"Please, fuck me Shawn! I can't take it anymore, make me feel whole! Fuck me! Please!"

He hoped Shawn wouldn't demand he opened his eyes and did it correctly. He knew he wouldn't be able to do it. But Shawn simply grabbed his shoulder and turned him over, face first in the wall. Something melted in his guts.

"Spread your legs… I'll give it to you hard!"

Mumbling something he hoped sounded like _Oh yeah_, Sid bit his lips as he felt fingers pushing in, so easy, so familiar in spite of what they entailed. He arched when something that should have been pleasure flashed through him.

He didn't want that feeling, he shouldn't be feeling it, his brain frantically clang to Paul's drinking habits. How he could keep drinking so much when he knew as much as everyone else that it was killing him.

But then Shawn pushed in and he almost lost his breakfast. Only the memory of all the times he'd had to clean after Paul allowed him to keep it in. He could still hear Shawn's comments but they didn't make sense to him anymore.

He was there, and he wasn't there. Everything was wrapped his a huge blanket of white cotton, all muffled and distorted. He felt good somehow, at peace. He knew his purpose in life again.

Sid couldn't tell how long it took Shawn to come. He didn't hear what the bigger man said as he walked out of the room, and he found himself half naked, pressed against a wall and feeling a mixture of things that didn't make sense to him.

He wondered then how Craig could say he loved Chris so much and still leave scars that deep in his skin. And then he wondered why Chris never said a thing. Finally he pulled his shorts back up and padded slowly out of the room. He didn't need to wonder, they all did it for the same reason, because it was what made them tick.

  
[the end]


End file.
